CHAPTER 4

Clara quickly turned off her phone and placed it face down on the bed.

“No one,” she answered.

Flora looked at her for a few seconds, studying her expression as though she were trying to decide whether to believe her.

“Clara.”

That single word was enough to make Clara sit up straighter.

“It's just a friend.”

“A friend?” Flora repeated, stepping further into the room.

“Yes, Mum.”

Flora sighed and walked towards the bed. Her eyes briefly moved to the phone lying beside Clara before returning to her daughter's face.

“I've told you before, Clara. I don't want you getting carried away with these things. You know what I've always said about boys.”

Clara lowered her eyes and picked at a loose thread on her bedsheet.

“I know.”

“Then I hope you understand why I'm always reminding you.”

“I do, Mum.”

“Good. Because I don't want you making a decision you'll regret for the rest of your life.”

“I won't.”

Flora remained quiet for a moment. Her expression softened, and she sat beside Clara.

“Clara, listen to me. You're my daughter. Everything I say is because I love you. I know you may think I'm too strict sometimes, but I want you to have a good life. I want you to finish school, become someone you can be proud of, and have opportunities I never had.”

Clara glanced at her mother.

“I'm not trying to control you,” Flora continued. “I just don't want your life to become difficult because of one careless decision. Some choices can affect your future in ways you might not understand until it's too late.”

Clara swallowed.

“I understand, Mum.”

Flora reached out and gently adjusted a strand of hair away from Clara's face.

“I'm trusting you to make the right decisions. Don't forget that.”

“I won't forget.”

“Good girl.”

Flora stood and headed towards the door. Before leaving, she turned around once more.

“And Clara?”

“Yes, Mum?”

“Whatever you do, don't let anybody pressure you into something you're not ready for. Not even someone you care about.”

Clara looked up, surprised by the unexpected addition to her mother's warning.

Flora held her gaze for a moment before leaving the room.

The door clicked shut.

Clara remained still, listening to her mother's footsteps fade down the hallway. Only when she was certain Flora had gone did she release the breath she'd been holding.

She turned towards her phone.

For a few seconds, she simply stared at it, wondering whether she should leave it where it was. But curiosity eventually won. She picked it up and unlocked the screen.

Daniel had sent another message.

Daniel: Is everything okay?

Clara read it twice.

She could almost imagine him sitting somewhere, waiting for her reply and wondering why she'd suddenly disappeared.

She began typing.

Clara: My mum almost saw our conversation.

His response came a moment later.

Daniel: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause problems.

Clara's shoulders relaxed slightly.

Clara: It's not your fault. She just doesn't like the idea of me getting involved with boys.

Daniel: I understand. You don't have to explain anything to her because of me.

Clara stared at his message.

She had expected him to complain, ask why she was hiding their conversation, or insist that she continue talking to him. Instead, he seemed more concerned about whether she was comfortable.

There was something about the way he cared that made her want to trust him.

She placed the phone on her lap and leaned against the wall beside her bed.

For weeks, Daniel had become part of her daily routine. His messages were among the things she looked forward to, even when she pretended they meant nothing to her. He asked about her day, listened when she spoke about school, and somehow made ordinary conversations feel less ordinary.

She had begun to enjoy having him around.

But now, with her mother's warning still fresh in her mind, the thought of continuing their conversations suddenly felt complicated.

What if things became serious? What if her mother found out? What if she allowed herself to become attached and everything ended badly?

Clara rubbed her forehead.

She didn't want to disappoint her mother, but she also didn't want to lose something she had barely given herself the chance to understand.

Instead of dealing with those conflicting feelings, she reached for the one solution she knew best.

Distance.

She opened Daniel's chat and typed a message.

Clara: Maybe we should stop talking.

She stared at the words.

They looked harsher on the screen than they had in her mind.

She considered deleting them and explaining herself properly, but before she could change her mind, she pressed send.

The message was delivered.

Clara's stomach tightened.

She waited for a reply.

One minute passed.

Then five.

Then ten.

Daniel didn't respond.

She kept unlocking her phone, checking the conversation, and locking it again. Each time, she hoped to see his name appear at the top of the screen.

Nothing.

Eventually, she tossed the phone onto the bed and stood up.

“Good,” she whispered to herself. “This is better.”

She walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Outside, the evening was settling over the neighbourhood. A few children were still playing along the road, their laughter drifting through the open window, while a woman nearby called for someone to come inside.

Everything outside seemed ordinary.

Yet Clara felt as though she had made a decision she wasn't entirely prepared to live with.

She turned away from the window and began arranging the books scattered across her desk. She had no real reason to rearrange them, but keeping her hands busy was easier than looking at her phone again.

By the time she finished, the sky had darkened.

She ate dinner with her mother, answered questions about her preparations for medical school, and listened as Flora reminded her to organise her documents before the new term began.

Clara answered when spoken to, but her attention wandered more than once.

“Are you listening to me?” Flora asked.

Clara looked up from her plate.

“Yes, Mum.”

“What did I just say?”

Clara hesitated.

Flora shook her head lightly. “Your mind is somewhere else tonight.”

“I'm just thinking about school.”

“That's good. You should be thinking about school. It's an important step, Clara, and I want you to take it seriously.”

“I will.”

“Have you checked that everything is ready?”

“Yes. I only need to arrange a few things tomorrow.”

“Then do that. I don't want you rushing around at the last minute.”

Clara nodded and returned to her meal.

She knew her mother wanted her to succeed. She had never doubted that. But sometimes, the weight of her mother's expectations made it difficult to separate what she genuinely wanted from what she believed she was supposed to want.

Later that night, Clara returned to her room and prepared for bed.

She placed her notebooks neatly on the desk, checked her school documents one last time, and set her alarm. Medical school was no longer a distant plan she could think about whenever she pleased. It was approaching quickly, bringing new responsibilities and expectations with it.

She was excited, of course.

At least, she thought she was.

The idea of studying medicine had once filled her with determination. She had imagined herself walking into a new environment, learning things she had never known, meeting people who would challenge her, and gradually becoming the person she wanted to be.

But now that the moment was almost here, the excitement came with a long list of questions.

Would she be able to keep up with the work?

Would she fit in?

What would happen when the lessons became difficult and everyone else seemed to understand what she couldn't?

She had always been a good student, but medical school was different. It was a new environment with new expectations, and she couldn't predict how she would handle everything.

Clara sat on the edge of her bed and glanced at her phone.

She knew she shouldn't be waiting for a message from Daniel after telling him they should stop talking.

Still, a small part of her had hoped he would reply.

Perhaps he was upset. Perhaps he had decided that if she wanted him out of her life, he would respect her decision and leave without another word.

She couldn't blame him for that.

She had asked him to stop talking to her. What right did she have to be disappointed when he listened?

Clara picked up the phone and opened their conversation.

Her last message remained there, unanswered.

She started typing a second message.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that.

Her thumb hovered over the send button.

After a moment, she deleted the words.

She wasn't ready to explain herself, and she didn't know what she would say if he asked her what she really wanted.

Instead, she placed the phone on her bedside table and switched off the light.

The room fell into darkness, leaving only the faint glow from the streetlamp outside her window.

Clara pulled her blanket over herself and turned onto her side.

Her thoughts eventually returned to medical school. Whatever happened with Daniel, she couldn't allow herself to neglect the opportunity she had worked so hard to reach. She needed to prepare, settle into the new environment, and learn how to manage the responsibilities waiting for her.

There would be enough time to figure out everything else.

At least, that was what she told herself.

She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would quiet her thoughts.

But just before she drifted off, one question remained in her mind:

What if tomorrow becomes the beginning of everything I've been afraid of?